Author's Note: Sorry, guys! I'm a bit stuck on "Raising Umah". So while I'm chipping away at my Writer's Block, I leave you this complete waste of time. Er...I mean collaboration between authors.
Warning: Contains a few naughty words and rampant weirdness. You have been warned.
The Smoke and Tia in the story are not exactly like the real us, but we share characteristics.
Text in italics in the body of the story indicates an online conversation via IM.
Drunken MUSEings
"So anyway, thanks again for the inspiration," Smoke was saying over the phone. She didn't usually give her phone number to her online friends, even co-authors. But Tia seemed mostly harmless.
Tia's gentle southern accent could be heard even over the crackling phone line. "Forget it. I just wish I could get my story to move. Ugh...it's so disheartening to work your butt off for months and then then three reviews."
"Yeah but you wrote something you can be proud of. I, on the other hand, can post some crap I pulled out of my arse and get 50 reviews a day telling me, and I quote, 'OMG U R teh r0xx0r lololol,' ."
Tia laughed so hard she could barely hold the phone. "Thanks. I needed that laugh. Tell you what; when you come to visit me in March, I'll buy the drinks."
"Watch out, kiddo. You haven't seen me drink. Hope you have enough to bankroll this lush."
"Eh. I'll start putting money into my savings account now."
Smoke hung up the phone and smiled. Tia wasn't a bad kid. A little down on her talent and way too dependent on reviews. She should just learn to ignore the fans and write whatever the hell made her happy. Dang teenagers.
A sudden thought occurred to her. Tia was NOT a teenager; she'd just had her twenty-first birthday two months ago. Booting up her computer, Smoke typed in the web address for her favorite liquor store. Some nice cream sherry was just the thing to perk up her little friend. She filled out her order form, sent her credit card number over the secure server and received a quick confirmation.
Cyberspace can be a funny thing. Sending electronic information is still an imprecise art and even the best of firewalls can fail. That was how Smoke's gift was diverted from Pete's Liquor Bucket to Hecate's High Spirits. Soon, a bottle of ambrosia was on its way to Florida.
"I've got mail! WAHOO!" Tia nearly mowed down the poor innocent mailman in her haste to grab the parcel from his hands. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sent him on his way, confused. She hugged the package to herself when she saw the name on the return label and sprinted to the computer to thank her friend.
JanosluvR: Did you ever know that you're my heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero?
DraconicWraith: -laughs- I take it you like your present?
JanosluvR: Heck yes! I'm going to try some right now!
DraconicWraith: Bottom's up! Hope you have enough food in your stomach to absorb the booze.
Tia ripped open the box and peered inside. Nestled in yards of what looked like silk was a cut crystal decanter. Smoke had clearly gone all out for her. She twisted open the top and sniffed the contents; it smelled like honey and figs, with a touch of pomegranate. She pour herself a glass, saluted the computer screen, and drank.
She felt strange. Unused as she was to alcohol, Tia couldn't be sure this was normal. Her head swam and suddenly her mind was filled with images of the infinite possibilities. She could see threads of dozens of plot lines, twisting and weaving together into a beautiful tapestry. So much was out there to be explored. Her fingers itched for her notebook so she could write this all down before it faded away. Damn! Where did Smoke find this stuff? She'd order a case!
Suddenly the bottom seemed to fall out of her stomach and she was overwhelmed by vertigo. It was as if her whole body was rearranging itself on a molecular level. Her scalp tingled as her hair grew longer, past her hips and then wound itself upward in an artful style upon her head. Stained t-shirt and ratty shorts became a flowing chiton. Tia's bones ached as she grew taller. She ran to the bathroom mirror and looked at herself in fascinated horror.
She was a muse.
DraconicWraith: So, how is it?
JanosluvR: WTF???!
DraconicWraith?
JanosluvR: Where in the nine hells did you buy this weird ass crap? I'm a muse! A frickin' MUSE!
DraconicWraith: ...Damn girl, how much did you drink? Too much sherry can kill you, you know.
JanosluvR: I'm sitting here dressed like an extra from Xena with the weirdest ass sherry in the world and I'm now six feet all and my boobs could shade a small state.
DraconicWraith: And you're complaining...why?
JanosluvR: Ooooh! Funny! Gee...thanks for the sympathy! Don't you know what this means? I can never write for myself again! I'm doomed to inspire the imaginations of others but never a story for myself.
DraconicWraith: All with the body of a topless dancer. Oh, it sucks to be you.
JanosluvR: ...I hate you
DraconicWraith: Hey, if you're a muse, shouldn't you be able to come up with a better story than that? Why are you even bitching? Why not just use this to inspire me right into the New York Bestseller's List and a condo?
JanosluvR: Ok, listen up, Miss Smart Ass. You're gonna help me get back my life. Call one of your wiccan friends, kill a bunny. Hell...summon The Great Pumpkin. But if I don't have my real body back in two seconds-
"-I'm gonna fill your head with Care Bears fan fiction and-" Tia stopped and stared, confused by her surroundings. Smoke started at the sound of another human voice in her room and turned around. "Um...I think I owe you an apology."
"No shit." One hand still clutched the decanter while the either tried vainly to pull the bodice of her chiton higher. "Who the hell is 'Hecate's High Spirits' anyway?"
Smoke grabbed the bottle and looked at it. "Beats the crap outta me. I ordered you something from Pete's."
Smoke grabbed an empty glass from the desk and began to pour out a sample of the liqueur.
"Yeah, great idea," Tia noted dryly. "Now we'll both never write again."
"Y'know, I'm starting to believe this."
Smoke set the glass back on the desk, though she was loathe to waste any alcohol.
"Thanks ever so much for your understanding," Tia wanted to cry. "Now I'll never finish that Vorador story!"
Smoke's fingers twitched in desire to return to the keyboard. "Yeah yeah...semi-phenomenal, nearly cosmic powers. It's the end of the world." Smoke thought quietly to herself and then her expression slowly changed from pensive to devilish amusement. "You wanna have some fun?"
Tia flopped down on Smoke's impossibly messy bed and giggled like a two-year-old. "Let's write a Legacy of Kain story, shall we?"
Hours later, Smoke pushed away the keyboard and rubbed her hands, willing the feeling to return to them. When would she learn to keep her big mouth shut around Muses?
"God, you're so frickin' lazy. It's only been four hours."
Smoke nearly whimpered. "I have to potty."
"Oh, fine," Tia stood up and stretched. "Next thing you know you'll want food as well."
"Yeah," Smoke paused in the doorway. "You want something?"
"Nah," the Muse reached for the bottle and took a swig. "I'm good. I think this is all I need now."
"Oh gross. I'll never try that crap now."
"That's the idea. Duh."
Smoke returned with a sandwich and plopped back down in front of the computer. What neither woman noticed was that a drop of the ambrosia had landed on the keyboard. Tia had sloshed her drink a bit while Smoke was gone and a tiny bit ended up on the 'enter' key. Thus when Smoke entered the next line of her story, all hell broke loose.